


Bathed in White

by TheSnowyOwl



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Heavy Angst, I hope you guys will pick up on these instances and be inspired to look into them, I love symbolism metaphors and things like that, I put graphic violence but really it's not that graphic, Oneshot, Other, Season/Series 07 Spoilers, That scene from 7x05 from Echo's POV, lots of mentions of blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:47:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25825375
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSnowyOwl/pseuds/TheSnowyOwl
Summary: They always find each other.And in this world within a room bathed in white, Echo finally comes to rescue Bellamy.To find him again.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Echo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 19





	Bathed in White

This world within a room was bathed in white.

White walls, white door, white floors and lights.

This was not the quiet, raw purity that was found in snow. 

It was tinged with that familiar electric blue, a hue she’d become very familiar with on those endless days on the Ring.

Everywhere they had been up to this point on this planet was much of the same, a labyrinth of white walls and metallic halls. 

Pristine. Sanitised. Superficial.

There was a strange noise, a repetitive croaking of words that were almost unintelligible. It broke Echo out of the strange trance this odd room had put her under, as her eyes finally glanced over to where Octavia lay in the chair. 

At the sight of her beloved Aunty O, Hope darted forward.

Echo clutched the helmet tightly for a moment as she gathered herself, feeling something for the first time in her stomach that she hadn’t before. A feeling she thought she knew, but dared not put a name to. Those emotions were glaciers, and she worked hard to keep them that way.

She wanted to feel that rush of excitement. A few more obstacles, yes, but once she had Bellamy everything would fall into place.

They would save Octavia, use Levitt to find Diyoza, and she would rescue Bellamy. 

She would be _home_ again.

But excitement refused to come. 

Echo tentatively set her helmet down onto the ground, sizing up the strange man stood near Octavia. His back was to them, evidently he hadn’t realised they had entered the room. 

She was sure that Hope said he had short, dark hair - and, not only that, she was sure that Hope had painted this Levitt character to be a kind, if misguided and naive, man who helped her and Octavia. So why would he let Octavia sit slumped in a chair, in an almost catatonic state, if he was any sort of ally to them?

That feeling stirred again, a small icy wave crumbling into the shore.

Suddenly straightening up into action, Echo strode towards the man.

“Levitt?” 

The strange man turned in surprise, pulling off his glasses with a look of bewilderment.

“It’s not him.” Hope declared with half a sigh, before turning her attention back to Octavia. 

Echo swallowed, recalculating things in her mind as she stared at Bellamy’s dear sister. It was a sight that Echo was frightened by, though she’d never admit it, not even to herself.

If they could do something so cruel, if they could try to break Octavia down in such a callous way, what were they doing to Bellamy?

The fear was replaced by a simmer of anger, and she snapped her attention back to the man, who was fidgeting with the arms of his glasses nervously.

“Her brother. Where is he?” Echo demanded, her dark eyes searching the gaze of the stranger before her.

He stopped fidgeting and just stared at her, his expression as blank, empty and cold as the walls around them.

She didn’t have time to play games.

Grabbing his shoulder caught him off guard. She yanked him close to her, bringing her blade up to his face menacingly.

“Show me,” she growled lowly, her voice daring to tremble, “or I take an eye.”

The facade crumbled away like stone as he stared at her with wide, nervous eyes. She brushed the blade closer, hovering it over his right pupil, and he finally gave a stiff and slight nod. Satisfied, she turned him and gave him a shove, allowing him to put on his glasses but pressing her blade against his back regardless.

Somehow, by some technology that she would never truly understand, he managed to pull up a screen of some sort in front of her, and the scene in front of her eyes began to unravel itself.

Octavia was being dragged into a room, one that Echo quickly recognised as being the stone room. There, standing surrounded by three bodies and holding a man hostage, was Bellamy.

After five years, she finally saw his face illuminated on the screen, and her heart did somersaults in her chest. Even from the distance Octavia stood at, every definition of him that Echo had came to know so well was crystal clear. His face, twisted with sorrowful determination, was just as beautiful as she’d remembered it. His eyes had lit up with relief, though he was careful in letting it show.

“Let her go. Right now.”

The sound of his voice was a siren’s call. Echo found herself moving without thinking, taking one small step at a time towards this projection of the past.

“Open the bridge and send him back to Sanctum. I’ll tell you everything you wanna know, even about Clarke.”

The words seemed so cryptic as they were spoken, and her eyes never left Bellamy for a second. Even as Anders began to coordinate the stone, she daren’t take her eyes from him. 

_Sanctum, where the rest of their family were waiting._

Bellamy would be home safe, perhaps he was wondering now where she was. Would he recklessly come to find her? 

_Chasing each other in an endless loop didn’t sound romantic,_ a voice that sounded like his whispered in her mind. 

She didn’t dare to smile, to feel hopeful, not yet.

“Jump through, I’ll be okay.”

Octavia would be okay, she wanted to tell him, now that they were here they could rescue her. They would rescue her first, then they would find Diyoza, then they would do whatever they could to get off this godforsaken planet and back to Sanctum. Back to him.

“… No way. Not without you.”

A pebble scattering across the returning waves in her stomach. Of course, Bellamy would not leave without his sister. It would always be his sister, his responsibility. The rift that had caused him to leave her off the ship was patching itself back together once more.

She understood it, she loved him all the more for it, but something about it here filled her with what she finally acknowledged was dread. Such an acknowledgement meant those glaciers were melting inside her. There was nothing she could do to stop it now.

Octavia’s gaze flickered down to one of the bodies. Clearly, this one hadn’t died as they had thought. His voice was muffled beneath the helmet. He pressed a button on his belt, and the beeping started.

The sound of each beep that resonated through that room punched against Echo’s racing heart, getting faster and faster.

“Bellamy, get down!” Octavia yelled.

But it was too late.

A blast of white light, white as the walls and the floors, flooded the screen as it knocked Octavia backwards off her feet.

From then, everything slowed down, just as quickly as it had sped up moments prior.

Octavia forced herself to sit back up, her vision struggling to focus itself. Her ears were ringing, and somehow Echo felt hers ring too.

The stone room, pristine and sterilised as it always was, stood proud and painfully empty. The white blast of light descended into a fog, and the green light of the anomaly had been chased away. There were no bodies littering the floor, nor a frightened hostage.

And there was no Bellamy Blake in sight.

In the slow motion of the moment, the memories she had kept so close in those desperate years flooded her senses, taking her away, forcing her from the reality of the sight she was faced with.

Memories of hopelessness, trapped in a cage or being banished from a clan. The salvation that Bellamy provided, rescuing her each time she found herself losing grip. Those years in space, getting to know her family, feeling loved for the first time in many years. Sparring, eating algae, playing cards, counting the stars.

Their first kiss. Their first night together, and all the ones after. All of those precious moments, all of the fear and the hurt and the passion. 

They kept her sane. _He_ kept her sane.

But what could she do, if those last memories were now for good?

The blade slipped from Echo’s grasp, but she couldn’t hear it clatter on the floor. 

Bellamy had disappeared.

_Disappeared? How could he disappear?_

The blast had taken him away.

_How could this be?_

Obliterated by white. A deceitful colour of purity, as cold as the snow she’d grown up surrounded by, but as artificial as the rest of this planet.

_Obliterated. Consumed._

Octavia’s screams rang out, but her voice was muffled beneath the ringing. Echo couldn’t tell if it was Octavia’s ears masking the noise or her own any longer.

Bellamy was gone.

_Gone._

_Gone? No. That’s not how this goes. It can’t be._

The ringing subsided, replaced by the pounding of her heartbeat, throbbing as it thrashed each beat against its skeletal cage. Her lungs burned as she struggled to find her breath. She felt as though her throat had been constricted, a helpless mouse trapped by a vengeful snake. 

_We found each other in a cage._

Those five years on Skyring, training and fighting and dreaming. What had it all been for?

_No matter what happens, we will find each other again._

If she had fought harder to find another way. If she had done things differently before even leaving Sanctum. If she was just smarter, this would never have happened. She would not have let it happen, there was no way.

_I don’t know what I’ll do if I lose him._

But it did happen, and she had failed.

It was really for nothing.

Bellamy was _dead_.

Her vision, clouded by hot tears, became misted with a colour she knew better than many.

Red.

She turned to look at this stranger. This damned, evil figure, who represented them all in that moment. He represented what they did. What they’d taken from her.

“That can’t be real.” She choked, her eyes darting from him to Octavia.

Gabriel and Hope seemed ignorant to Echo’s plight, as they freed Octavia from the m-cap. Her eyes met Echo’s, the dull sheen that had been present when they entered the room replaced with something else, something sadder. Something Echo couldn’t face, not with her.

Echo’s gaze flickered back to the man once again. Her body, once cold, empty and numb was being overtaken by the warming waves of dread, casting her out into an ocean of grief.

“It’s not real!” She cried, wildly gesturing to the air where the projection had once been, begging anyone to say something, anything to reassure her.

But no reassurances came, and Echo found herself helplessly approaching the building tides of anger.

An alarm system blared outwards, and Gabriel’s voice cut through it.

“Time’s up, they know we’re here!”

_Time’s up? What do you mean time’s up?_

She opened her mouth to object, but words refused to form.

_Time is irrelevant here._

She shook her head, but there was a storm inside she could no longer hold at bay. She couldn’t stay afloat.

“Echo, I’m sorry about Bellamy.”

_Bellamy._

Gabriel’s words were swallowed up in the thunders of her heartbeat.

_Where is he? Where is Bellamy?_

Her eyes flitted to that bastard in white, his expression glazed over again in that clinical, passive way. He didn’t give her the answer. Refused to give her the answer.

_WHERE?!_

A scream clawed its way from her throat, as she allowed herself to succumb to the sea, to let the storm rage.

Echo grabbed him.

_One punch. Two. Then three._

There it was. That red she knew so well, trickling down his worthless face.

_Four. Five. Then six._

This beast who dares to wear white. She’ll show their true colours.

_A seventh for good measure._

Her hands reach for the cool metal of the strange long spike, hovering above the chair. 

_Bellamy, this isn’t real._

There’s a pleading voice, but she can’t hear what they say.

_Nothing is going to change on the ground._

She screams again, carnal and enraged.

_I love you._

Down, down, down. Driving the spike through and drawing the red out.

She feels his blood spattering on her skin.

_The monster may bleed red, but human he is not._

Echo stared down into his frightened eyes, struggling to catch her breath, and an inhuman noise sighs out of her. It’s hard to see beyond the tears, beyond the haze, but she wants to watch. No, she _needs_ to watch his life slip away, needs to watch him descend to whatever hell may exist.

Finally, he collapsed against the table, drawing his last gurgled breath.

Upwards she looked, at the still white walls, white door, white floors and lights.

And she felt numb again.

Echo tried to step forward, to smear the beast’s blood on those damned walls, but her legs failed her. Falling to her knees, Echo let out a final heart-wrenching scream, finally allowing the tears to flood down her face, mingling with the blood of the slain.

It wasn’t enough.

This was just a room within a world. 

And she would turn their world bathed in white into the darkest shades of crimson.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys,
> 
> Thank you all for the support on my The 100 fics so far, it's meant so much to me, and I appreciate every single comment that comes into my inbox (it's a giddy feeling each time!)
> 
> I really wanted to explore Echo's perspective in this scene using the environments around her and the elements themselves as metaphors and symbolism. I feel she's a character who is very much in touch with nature, being a grounder certainly helps with that feeling. There's such a juxtaposition with colours that can breathe life into things, or make other things superficial. I hope I captured the expressions of that in this fic.
> 
> Have a blessed day everyone, stay safe.


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